814 HISTORY OF 



these birds is noted ; and a pair being put in a cage, if one dies 

 the other will not survive it. The turtle-dove is a bird of pas- 

 sage, and few, or none, remain in our northern climates in winter. 

 They fly in flocks when they come to breed here in summer, 



two hundred squabs, little inferior in size to the old ones, and almost one 

 mass of fat. On some single trees, upwards of one hundred nests were 

 found, each containing' one young only ; a circumstance in the history of 

 this bird, not generally known to naturalists. It was dangerous to walk 

 mider tliese flying and fluttering millions, from the frequent fall of large 

 branches, broken down by the weight of the multitudes above, and which, 

 in their descent, often destroyed numbers of the birds themselves ; whil„ 

 the clothes of those engaged in traversing the woods were completely co- 

 vered ivith the excrements of the pigeons. 



" These circumstances were related to me by many of the most respectable 

 part of the community in that quarter ; and were confirmed in part, by 

 what I myself witnessed. I passed for several miles through this same 

 breeding place, where every tree was spotted with nests, the remains of 

 those above described. In many instances, I counted upwards of ninety 

 nests on a single tree ; but the pigeons had abandoned tliis place for another, 

 sixty or eighty miles oft' towards Green river, where they were said at that 

 time to be equally numerous. From the great numbers that were con- 

 stantly passing over head to or from that quarter, I had no doubt of the truth 

 of this statement The mast had been cliiefly consumed in Kentucky, and 

 the pigeons, every morning a little before sunrise, set out for the Indiana 

 territory, the nearest part of which was about sixty miles distant Many 

 of these returned before ten o'clock, and the great body generally appeared, 

 on their return, a little after noon. 



" I had left the public road to visit the remains of the breeding place near 

 Shelbyville, and was traversing the woods with my gun, on my way to 

 Frankfort, when, about one o'clock, the pigeons, which I had observed fly- 

 ing the greater part of the morning northerly, began to return, in such im- 

 mense numbers as I never before had witnessed. Coming to an opening, 

 by the side of a creek called the Benson, where I had a more uninterrupted 

 riew, I was astonished at their appearance. They were flying, with great 

 steadiness and rapidity, at a height beyond gunshot, in several strata deep, 

 and so close together, that, could shot have reached them, one discharge 

 could not have failed of bringing down several individuals. From right to 

 eft, as far as the eye could reach, the breadth of this vast procession ex- 

 tended, seemingly every where equally crowded. Curious to determine 

 how long tliis appearance would continue, I took out my watch to note the 

 time, and sat down to observe them. It was then half past one. I sat for 

 more than an hoiir, but, instead of a diminution of tliis prodigious proces- 

 sion, it seemed rather to increase both in numbers and rapidity ; and, anxious 

 to reach Frankfort before night, I rose and went on. About four o'clock in 

 tlie afternoon I crossed the Kentucky river, at the towTi of Frankfort, at 

 which time the living torrent above my head seemed as numerous and as 

 extensive as ever. Long after this I observed them, in large bodies, that 

 foiitinuod to pass for six or eight minutes, and these again were followed 

 by other detacJied bodies, all moving in the same south-east direction, UU 



